She Dreamed of Him
by matchlightfire
Summary: He'd hoped he'd never see her again. He prayed it wouldn't be like this. Seth/Kate. Warnings for language and subject matter.
1. Chapter 1

The conversations washed over him dimly, blurred together in the fog of cigarette smoke and alcohol surrounding his poker table. He was a guest in Miguel Sandoval's establishment, so the betting was conservative and careful. Trying not to take this slurring idiot for all he was worth – not too quickly, at least. He'd learned that in a place like El Rey, it was a good idea to keep your head down. Better for your general well being.

He hid a grimace at truly shit cards when a sentence fragment caught his ear. Something about a girl, a white girl, giving them a fair bit of trouble. The two men were sitting a few tables over, but he didn't have to strain to hear their boasts. His stomach dropped sickly as the second one laughed a little too loudly about a stolen RV with the little bitch in back. He was up and moving before his opponent could grunt an argument, flinging useless cards down on their meager pile of chips.

The main room of the bar was everything a Mexican hole in the wall could strive for, but the apartments in back were where the real magic happened. Sandoval had a respectable harem going, an entire team of girls minded by seasoned drug runners. Guns, sex, and blow, plenty of all for the traveling American businessman. He pushed through the double doors separating the two worlds with a glance at the guard. He was a familiar face, not questioned, as he threaded through the kitchen to the hallways beyond. Closed doors that didn't muffle exaggerated moans of pleasure. The maze of doorways only took seconds, but he could already tell that he was late. The parking lot was too long and he was going to be too late. Her name pounded through his head as he caught sight of the RV, the familiar sides he watched fade into nothing through his rear view mirror.

_Goddamn it, Kate_, he thought, not seeing the guard that should have been posted outside the door, knowing where he would be instead. Gun in hand, he ripped open the flimsy screen and prepared to blow somebody away. The interior of the RV was in chaos, belongings scattered across the hallway leading to the back room. The tiny table turned on its side, and his stomach twisted again at the sight of a single sneaker amidst the rubble on the floor.

He caught sight of the dead man first, pants down around his ankles and soaked in a spreading pool of blood. She crouched next to him, tiny blade in a clenched fist and splattered with gore. A torn dress hung off one shoulder, but it was unquestionably _her_ and he felt something in his chest loosen for the first time in three months. It was _her_, she was _here_, and she was _alive_. She turned at the sound of his entrance, knife thrust towards unknown danger, eyes glittering with fear and shock.

"Kate?" He dropped the gun immediately, other hand raised in a gesture of surrender. She scrabbled away from him across the floor, pressing hard against the wall with her knife hand still pointed at him. "It's ok, Kate, it's me." Her eyes locked on the gun, harmless and dangling on one finger from the trigger guard, before flicking up to his face. Her pupils were wide, almost eclipsing the blue of her eyes and he carefully put the gun back into the waistband of his pants. "It's me."

"Seth?" Her voice was tiny in the quiet and the carnage of the room, but it was _hers_ and he nodded stupidly. "Are you real?" He was undone by the childlike confusion of the statement, but he forced his dry throat to work.

"In the flesh." He winced at his choice of words, but she just looked at him for a long moment before nodding in agreement.

"I dreamed of you."

His apology died in his mouth as her eyes rolled back in her head and she slumped gracelessly to the floor. He moved quickly to scoop her into his arms, eyes raking over the ruined RV for anything that looked important. They'd have to leave it, no way they could escape in such a large target. He snagged the strap of a backpack that he might have remembered as hers, not realizing he was already thinking in terms of 'they' instead of 'he', and left the rest without a backward glance. His car was on the edge of the lot, always ready to move quickly, and he strapped her limp form into the passenger seat with minimal shaking. He unclenched his fists, carefully pulled the ruined halves of her dress together over her shoulders and smoothed the fabric gently.

It was his fault, but he was going to make it right. She was here, she was alive, and he was going to figure out a way to make it right.

They sped away into the desert, night covering the wheel tracks in the dust.


	2. Chapter 2

He didn't notice exactly when she woke up. He had glanced at her every couple of seconds after pealing out of _El Cachon_'s driveway and some indeterminable number of miles down the road her her eyes were simply open. Locked on his. She didn't say a word, just lay, curled on her side in the passenger seat, and stared him down. He met her eyes as long as the road would allow.

"Are you okay?" he finally asked, knowing it was a stupid question, but relieved when she nodded in understanding. He frowned and hesitated, but forced himself to continue. "Did they hurt you?" His words were rushed and she didn't have to guess what he was really asking.

"I don't know," she said, turning at last to face the empty stretch of highway in front of them. "I fought when they took me, and one slammed my head against something and then - " She shrugged and held up empty palms, raising one to a rapidly purpling spot on her temple. "I came too with that..." she faltered, seeming to realize she was still covered in his blood. "- _pig_ on top of me." She was too calm, her description sounding like it had happened to someone else and he punched the steering wheel once, hard. She flinched and he felt even more like an asshole.

"Sorry." She waved her hands again in a 'it's nothing' gesture, but he shook his head. "I'm _sorry_, Kate." It was enough to make her look at him again, and he immediately wished she wouldn't. Her eyes were too big, reading a little too much. "I am a fucking bastard." She smiled at that, and he was relieved again to see it was genuine.

"Sometimes." He snorted, surprised at his own lips twisting upwards. "Where are we going?"

"I don't know." he said, an echo of her own answer. It should have worried her, but she just nodded and settled back into the seat. He should check her over, she could have a concussion. He should turn around and slit every throat it took to get to Sandoval himself for doing things like this to girls like her. But he just gripped the steering wheel a little too tightly and tried to focus on the pavement ahead.

Once outside the more populated areas, cars were few and far between – especially at night. If you did decide to venture out once darkness fell across the loose confederation of shore towns known as _El Rey_, you were gambling with your life. They called it 'King's Land', but they might as well be in hell. She would certainly testify to that, and he couldn't help looking her over again, as if to assure himself she was still there, she was still safe.

Safe. What a joke. She was no such thing, not as long as he was anywhere nearby. But then she hadn't been all that safe away from him either.

"Fuck it." he muttered to himself, determined not to let her down again. Her gaze rested on him for a second, and he felt more than saw her smile. "Don't go to sleep," he ordered, visions of concussion dancing in his worries again.

"I won't. I don't need to sleep to see you now." He hated her for that, hated the simple fact that he had fucked it up by leaving her behind.

"Just don't fall asleep, kid."

"I won't." No accusation, no blame – just her voice, calm and quiet as they flew through the night and towards nothing at all.


End file.
